


Hazy

by izzyb



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:52:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyb/pseuds/izzyb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knew it was odd, a woman out alone, drinking alone. Just a glass of wine, okay, glasses of wine and complete solace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hazy

**Author's Note:**

> For urbancate's prompt:
> 
>  _I'm going out  
>  I'm gonna drink myself to death  
> And in the crowd  
> I see you with someone else  
> I brace myself  
> Cause I know it's going to hurt  
> But I like to think at least things can't get any worse_

She knew it was odd, a woman out alone, drinking alone. Just a glass of wine, okay, glasses of wine and complete solace.

Not the best way to cope with loss, but surely the most fun.

To be honest, not so much fun, but a good way to make the table in front of her blur with something more than the tears she can feel forming behind her eyes.

Fuck.

Was this really the best idea?

She ignored the part of her brain that was screaming at her to go back to her meager (and empty) apartment, eat something, sleep this off. She turned the caution off and signaled to the waiter to bring her another. There could be worse things, right? Worse things than feeling this hole inside her chest?

Her vision was blurring when she saw him—at the bar instead of a table, but also drinking like there was no tomorrow. The liquid in his glass looked like amber under the bright lights, but he was also alone.

Solitary. Independent. There were only so many ways one could say it.

She stood, wavering a bit on her feet, but confident that her presence would be welcome.

“Uhura,” he acknowledged, and lifted his glass of whiskey in the air. She could smell the sharp scent of the liquor and knew she always associated the good stuff with McCoy. He also had an air of calm about him, like she could breathe in his scent and forget, at least for a moment.

“McCoy,” she returned and took the seat next to him, setting down her wine gently.

They sat in companionable silence, each in their own thoughts. She wondered who he was remembering, or if he was trying to forget. She wondered what brought him here, to this bar that was off the beaten path, far from the usual academy traffic. It was known for its quiet nature—no background music—just a place to forget or be forgotten.

Nyota longed for the former, not really the latter.

She wasn’t sure why she did it, but she her hand found its way to McCoy’s thigh. He started and looked at her, but didn’t protest the intrusion. Instead he grabbed her hand and stroked a finger down the center of her palm.

She shivered.

She took another sip of wine, but was more focused on the wave of heat that shot through her at the idea of taking more than just her emotional baggage back with her to her apartment.

The burn in her chest from the alcohol was just an added bonus.

He kept stroking her palm and she kept drinking until her glass was empty. The bartender approached her, but she waved him away.

“Here?” she asked. Her fingers itched to pull him into the closest place with a locked door and get rid of this burning heat.

McCoy shook his head and kept stroking until he finished his own drink. And the other one that the bartender poured without asking.

She was nothing if not patient. Uhura crossed her legs and bit her lower lip.

He finally stood up, keeping a tight grip of her hand. He led her out of the bar without a word.

*

Her room was dark, but Uhura decided not to turn on any more lights. Instead she took off her dress, not lingering in its disposal, but still appreciating his hands attempting to assist its removal.

“How do you want me?” he asked, shirtless in front of her. She appreciated the sight, aided by the small glow from her bedside lamp.

She laid back on the bed and held out her arms. “Right here would be perfect.”

He crawled on top of her and kissed her. His lips tasted like the whiskey he had been drinking and she eagerly opened her mouth for more. He obliged and thrust his leg between hers while he circled one of her breasts with his thumb. She couldn’t help the noise that erupted from her throat and he took that as an invitation to put his mouth on her.

“No, no.” She twisted in his arms, the burning from before spiking. “Kiss me again.”

He did, deeper this time. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and breathed his name. _McCoy_. A few minutes later, _Leonard_.

Somehow he lost the rest of his clothes and came back to her, all hands and toned muscles and broad shoulders.

“Yes,” she murmured when he asked if she was ready, two fingers already inside her. He took a moment to push them in and out and circle her clit with his thumb, all the while kissing her breasts, her neck, her lips.

When he finally pushed into her, she sighed in relief and clutched both her legs and arms tightly around him. He withdrew and thrust in harder and she stopped remembering and just felt the pleasure.

“Like this?” he asked, turning her onto her stomach so that she could reach down and finger herself.

“Yeah,” she said into the pillow and made an “ummph” sound when he pulled her hips up to thrust more deeply. Her fingers were slick and she turned her head into the sheet and rubbed her clit, feeling the pressure inside her grow more intense.

“Come for me,” he said. And she did, biting her lip again and shaking in his arms. Her breath came in gasps and he finished inside of her, holding her close and sucking a mark on her neck.

She didn’t protest when he collapsed on top of her, or when he pulled her to him, tucked her head under his neck and rubbed her back.

The burning inside her cooled to a less-pulsing warmth.

And she slept and didn’t dream for once.

*

She woke when sunlight hit the bed. He was still there, snoring softly in her ear. She grinned to herself, but didn’t wake him.

It could be worse.


End file.
